Do I Keep this To Myself?
by Write4PHun
Summary: ADA Barba realizes he is smitten with Benson. He cannot act on these feelings. Can he?
1. Chapter 1

ADA Barba realizes he is smitten with Benson. He cannot act on these feelings. Can he?


	2. Chapter 2

It was 12:42 AM. Rafael had dozed off mid-research. Dozens of opened books, briefs everywhere, a time-out message on LexisNexis...his breath was rancid. Strong coffee and Chinese take-out combined for an acrid aroma. He had to brush his teeth.

Staring at his reflection in the lime green wash of men's room light, he noticed the circles under his eyes. He really required quality sleep.

His pocket vibrates.

It's Liv.

She is at the station with a girl who escaped the clutches of Johnny D. Guess sleep could wait.

"Benson?" Rafael called out to the mostly vacant desks and darkened rooms.

"We're here," she said, coming around the corner with her hands guiding a very shaken and ashen looking 16 or 15 year old girl. He guessed they were in the ladies' room splashing cold water on the face of the vic. He couldn't help but feel empathy for the distressed child, knowing what he knew about Johnny D. Olivia was so beautiful in these moments. Her body language conveyed warmth, understanding, the protectiveness of a caring mother...ugh. No time for this. They needed to act fast to keep this vic safe.

"Mandi, this is ADA Barba and he will help you. With your testimony, we will put Johnny D. away for life."


	3. Chapter 3

Court was abysmal today. Johnny D. really broke some of these girls. One recanted on the stand. One of the pimps was shivved at Rikers. Not likely to testify now. Rafael needed coffee if he was going to soldier on and deliver a potent line of questioning tomorrow.

"Barba?" Rafael glanced toward the sound of her voice near the door. Liv looked spent. She spent every waking hour counseling the girls, visiting the safe house, getting no sleep, much like himself.

"Sleepwalking, Benson?" he smirked as he stood up to stretch.

"Yeah, something like that," she mumbled as she sunk into his office couch. Rafael sat silently beside her. She appeared fragile, solemn, at her breaking point.

"I need fresh coffee, and I'm all out of supplies in my office. I will NOT drink the swill from the kitchen, so we're going on a quest for java. Up up. Let's go," he spoke as a coach pep-talking a losing team.

"You're annoying at this hour of night," she grinned in that gorgeous way of hers, and his heart melted.

"Here we go," he instructed, taking her hand, pulling her to her feet and out the office door.

"There's something peaceful about strolling through empty streets searching for signs of life, trying to avoid breathing in hot garbage on grates…"

"Geez, Barba, you know how to go from setting a lovely scene to dumping on it in seconds," she was softly laughing to herself, her one arm tucked through his. He didn't know how or when or why this little habit started, but he so sincerely enjoyed it. Most of the time his face glowed as they walked arm in arm, him pretending she was his girlfriend, alluring and light, causing bystanders to experience jealousy because they looked so happy, so right together.

"This place, they know how to make muscular coffee."

"Muscular? Seriously?"

"I require manly coffee at this absurd hour, and Hi-Collar does the trick," he gently pressed his hand to her back to direct her through the door.

"Mr. Barba, good evening. Usual?"

"You have the most eclectic connections of anyone in the city. Who don't you know?" Olivia scolded him, making him wince lest she think he was some braggart show-off which of course he was, but he didn't intend to be that way around her.

Just as Rafael was opening his billfold, a masked male, late 20's in a ski mask pointed a gun at his head, shouted at him to "fork over the wallet" and yelled at the barista to open the register.

"Here, take it. We just want coffee. No one needs to get hurt here," Barba said in his soothing tone.

"Shut up, yuppie," the perp screamed as he cracked the gun across Rafael's temple.

"Barba!" Olivia yelped, clinging to his side.

"Shut up, bitch. Both of you, on your knees, NOW!"

Meanwhile the barista handed the perp $100 some odd dollars.

"That's it? You holding out on me?" a shot cracked the petrified pause.

Rafael threw himself on Olivia to protect her from bullets, and the perp kicked him in the ribs.

"Big hero to your girlfriend?" Sirens.


End file.
